


Life is not a fairytale, but it would be nice if it was

by queenofluna25



Category: Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26851168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofluna25/pseuds/queenofluna25
Summary: Lunar Chronicles re-imagined, with a few new characters I've been dying to add into the mix.
Relationships: Carswell Thorne & Wolf | Ze'ev Kelsey, Carswell Thorne/Original Female Character(s), Kai/Linh Cinder
Kudos: 2





	Life is not a fairytale, but it would be nice if it was

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the series, most of the characters and stuff, this is just sort of writing practice for NaNoWriMo.

_Paris, France_

_The final fight against the wolves and the thaumaturge, at the Rampion's ramp at the end of Scarlet._

The thing about hastily made plans was, they had a very irritating habit of working out a lot differently than you expected. She didn't know what had led her to Paris, why she had thought she would find answers there, but she had thought she had had a plan. Apparently not. And now, it wasn't time for a plan for revenge. It was time for an exit strategy, and the only thing her tired, starved and scared brain could come up with was the same thing that had brought her here. Sneak aboard a promising looking smuggler ship and hope for the best. She remembered a fleeting glimpse of a gleaming cargo ship in a side alley near the opera house, probably stolen from some military, and she hobbled towards its general direction as quietly as she could, praying to whatever gods that still existed to protect her from the wolf-men. 

She had managed to overhear something about wolves at the opera house, and a few days were spent watching the entrances, noting the guard schedules and planning her attack. Finally, when she had (stupidly) thought she was ready, she had stuck a knife in a lone guard's back, and waited for him to crumble before moving deeper inside the dusty, crumbling building. But the guard had barely flinched. He pulled the knife out calmly, like it had been stuck in a block of wood and not his own back, and she watched the display form the shadows, too stunned to move. 

And then the guard turned his head. 

She could see his eyes flashing in the dark, his expression calm, calculated. Prepared to strike. 


End file.
